


Stability

by StydiaFanfics



Category: Lydia Martin - Fandom, Stydia - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV), stalia - Fandom
Genre: Banshee Lydia Martin, Deadpool - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 08:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1976679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StydiaFanfics/pseuds/StydiaFanfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: After Lydia breaks the code for the Deadpool, she finds herself realizing she could no longer call Stiles for comfort. Not even when she is being hunted down by teenage assassins. Not even after finding herself bleeding on Stiles' arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stability

It hurt. She thought of him and it hurt. But thats the thing, Lydia Martin does not hurt. Especially not for a boy. Especially not for Stiles Stilinski. Or though she thought she didn’t.

Maybe that hurt feeling was part of the combination that made the ache in her gut for the past few weeks.The Flip flopping of her intestines with the reminder that she is not okay. That Lydia Martin was alone and there was no one left to keep her sane. That was it, it was pain deep inside the base of her throat that runs down the top of her stomach that reminded her that no one cared. Everyone was busy, and for once, the Lydia Martin of Beacon Hills was not at the center of it all.

“What do you hear?” Kira’s distant voice said.

“The key,” Lydia’s breath shook, and as much as it pained her to type in her dead best friend’s name, this was a moment she was accustomed to calling him. Clicking her contacts open to Stiles’ name and hearing urgent voice that he was on his way. That she shouldn’t move.

She couldn’t tap on his name though. Just like Aiden and Allison, it was Stiles who also took a step away from her life in an instant. The worst part was that Stiles was alive and it felt as if he were dead to her.

 

\---

 

So they were being hunted down. She was on the list. Everyone around her was on the list besides him. She wondered if being human made him feel good for once now, she wondered if for once he could see himself as she always seen him as, a hero, a friend, someone worthy of fighting the supernatural.

Her computer screen was blank, a vertical line flashed on the now new page. She was expecting more codes to come up, but for the past five hours she sat on her desk at home and nothing came up.

Allison. Why Allison?

She swore that this was all a game. Someone who wanted to mess with them as a group. But the game would have made more sense if the deadpool of names didn’t include other supernatural names in it. People she never thought of. People who were already brutally murdered.

The door opens, her eyes stay on the blank screen. Allison? Allison. It had to be someone who knew them closely, someone who cared for Allison.

“Lydia, I just got back from the lake house. Didn’t I strictly tell you-”

“- Take the charges to my name.” Lydia cuts her mother off, her voice above a whisper. “ It’s not like my debt will change much. I’ll remain the same. High and out of my reach.” She spins her chair around, and gazes straight at her mother’s eyes. “Now please let me be. I have to think of a topic to write a paper on.” She tilts her head to the side.

Ms. Martin’s brows come together, and looks behind Lydia. “ Topic? Lydia your screen is full of words, but whatever. I’ll leave you to it.”

Here it was again. The thing inside her that confuses her, the thing that she doesn’t know how to control, let alone how manage to work correctly. Banshee. She was a Banshee and whatever the hell a Banshee was, it was another thing to deal with. Another thing that kept her up at night.

She turns around, hearing the door close behind her.

“youarenext.youarenext.youarenext.youarenext.” The same text, pages and pages full. The screen almost black and tears of fear forming on her eyes.

Five freaking hours! She took five hours staring at a blank screen.

Her chest began to jump at an uneven pace. Head spinning at all of the possible outcomes of why she couldn’t see this text forming. Why five hours on the chair felt like minutes. Why there can never be an explanation. Why was she a Banshee. Why why why! But most of all, as she cupped her mouth with her shaking fingers, why was she in need of Stiles? 

She stares at the dark screen of her dead phone on the top of her desk. Charge it and call Stiles, Lydia. Call Stiles. He knows what to do. He knows how to keep you calm. He knows understands you. He understand the Banshee. A voice repeated in her head. A voice that knew that she needed him. A voice that hasn’t been with him since Aiden and Allison passed away. A voice that loved him.

Grabbing her phone she stares at her reflection on the black screen. No. Malia needed Stiles. Stiles was busy.

 

\---

 

“Ms. Martin,” Mr. Yukimura said once the bell for lunch rang. “Can you please meet with me for a second after class? It’ll be quick. Don’t worry about missing lunch.”

Stay after class. Never in her high school career had she ever heard those words addressed to her, but without looking around to see Scotts or Stiles’ reactions, she nods.

“What? I get asked to stay after class often,” Malia’s unwillingly voice bounced off the walls from behind. “There’s nothing wrong. It helps me. So, why the face?”

Lydia digs her nails onto her fisted palms. She really just wished that Malia was here since day one so she didn’t have to be clueless about how things worked around here. What the custom was. How their group worked. But it has all changed. Isaac, Allison, and Aiden were no longer in their daily lives. Malia was never here to see any of the food-throwing, random-kisses-in-the-hallway,

annoyed-look-while-getting-to-class-with-Stiles, type of days. Especially never seeing that Lydia Martin was never asked to stay after class because she was one of the best in her class.

But then, the other part of her wished that Malia was here from day one so Stiles wouldn’t be with her at all times. That part of her made her ache when he spoke right after what Malia said.

“Ah… Malia. You see, some people are so good at being a person that they don’t need help at being a person. So, it’s strange when they finally do.”

Person. She was good at being a person.

Lydia doesn’t turn to see them heading out of the class. Though if she did she was sure she would have mugged the shit out of Malia for not noticing her intelligence when it came to education and Math. Clearly Lydia was good at math. She helped the clueless girl cuntless of times in the past few weeks.

“Like me hunting down prey?” Malia questioned. They were at the door by then.

“Exactly. Like you being an expert at hunting your meals.” Stiles’ cheerful voice beamed away into the crowded hall, and Lydia was now left alone.

“Lydia?” Mr. Yukimura’s lecturing voice caught Lydia’s attention again, and Lydia gives him her attention by standing and grabbing a hold on her purse. An indication that she was planning on making this conversation short.

“Yes?”

“Lydia i’m pretty sure you are aware that you are one of the best in this class-”

“- The best in every class.” She corrects him.

“-yes. Yes.” He coughs again, looking uneasy. “Well, i’ve been up to date with your absences and homework completion, but it seems to me that since the end of the last semester...and the unfortunate of events, that has taken a toll on a great number of students here, you are lacking on focusing. Now i’m not saying you are the only one, but I would like to see higher-”

“The death of Allison and Aiden. Many other students leaving. Those unfortunate events.” She stares blankly at the door, the hall almost empty. Few voices distant. Laughter and smiles. Things she used to see in her daily lives. A laughter she was becoming envious of just by standing there.

Mr. Yukimura scratches his head and crosses his arms, leaning on his desk. “Well, I know it’s personal. But Lydia, you need to focus more on your education. Leave whatever happened with the Oni in the past. You are a bright student. I know it’s hard to lose somebody-”

“-Mr. Yukimura thanks for the advice, but I don’t think your words are going to help. Yeah i’ve missed assignments and class, but in the end of the day when that test comes around, you’ll see that I am no where getting behind. So, if you will excuse me, I have to worry about professional assassins trying to kill more of my-” she stops, the laughter in the halls becoming deeper in her ears. “Friends,” she breaths.

Without looking or paying attention to Mr.Yukimura’s protests, she walks out. The door frame keeping her still. The hall was empty, but that combination of laughter. Deep and beating her eardrums to their fullest.

It could belong to anyone. She couldn’t tell the gender, but she was wrong. She never laughed like this. This burst of energy did not belong to someone who gossiped over boys with their best friend, to someone who just hooked up in some intense make out session in the storage closet with a boy she will never love. No, this was a laugh of someone with a darkness. A laughter after completing an assignment. A laughter that belonged to someone who believed in triumph.

Her head turns away from the laughter and makes an attempt to walk quickly to the direction she and everyone ate lunch. Trying to ignore the fact that she felt watch. Ignore the fact that her ears felt warm as if they were ripping apart.

They are here. The assassins are here.

 

\---

 

“Wait, so what you are saying is that whoever is killing the people on deadpool are here at school?” Scott chews on a ketchup covered fry. “ That’s…”

“Impossible. I know. It’s just that I have been hearing and seeing things. Laughter, codes. They are here.” Lydia around to the blank faces, eyes wide. She made sure to skip Stiles, but all she got was faces of uncertainty. A look she often got.

“Ha. I would have smelled the scent of a predator by now,” Malia shakes her head. Of course she wouldn’t believe a thing Lydia said. Odds of Lydia being right were always slim. 

Lydia scowls at Malia, a swift head jerk towards her direction so fast she kept in mind to avoid Stiles expression to her being rude.

Malia takes one of Scott’s fries and shrugs, placing the fry half way in her mouth and turning towards Stiles. This Lydia caught perfectly, as if were in slow motion. A scene scripted to awe its viewers.

At first his eyebrows lift, as if he were caught in surprise. Only a slight second before he sets down his fork and grabs onto her waist with his left arm and cleans his mouth with his right before leaning in with his mouth open to bite the other half. In the end it was simple, their lips meet, and that’s when Lydia had to turn.

She knew they were close, but not that close.

“Aye, aye, aye, keep it PG.” Scott laughs and winks at Kira who quickly turns a shade of red. Another couple. She was somehow aware of Kira and Scott’s friendly love affair blooming in the halls, but she never became aware of them actually becoming a thing. Something a friend should have found out by now. Something a bestfriend would call in the middle of the night for.

But Malia and Stiles. She knew from the trip to Mexico that they were too, also , caring for one another. It was just hard to accept that Stiles has not only given her less attention, but that also, changed his interest in her.

“So, umm…” Kira, still with cheeks flushed says, “does this mean this is a ‘No’ on Lydia’s theory?” She looks around.

“Duh, obviously,” Malia lifts her hands a bit.

“Well, I think we should keep it in mind either way,” Scott says. “ You both could either be wrong or right.”

From there, the conversation on having the assassin in school was gone. Kira went back to flirting so clumsily with Scott, while Stiles and Malia threw little pieces of their food to one another. She didn’t feel welcome or at a leverage point.

She felt like telling them that she felt hunted, but it wasn’t like they would care.

When the bell rang, the halls beamed again with the laughter.

They were here, and she skipped her last three classes.

 

\---

 

She thought the repair guy had left before she even arrived at the lake house. The indications of him where there though. The pulled rug, the new glass panel laying on its side by the front foot. Buckets of paint. The door was left open and when she entered it seemed as if someone took a bathroom break from working on the kitchen tiles.

But also, there was that gut feeling again of being watched. The remnants of the yellow caution tape where the headless supernatural peg guy was found a couple of days ago were still there across her house. She remembers seeing it, head completely off.

She wondered what they would do to her. To the Banshee who knew nothing about control yet knew everything all at once.

Everything outside felt still. No wind, no sound, the water moved in its waves, but it was not bright. The sky in a gray tone. 

She looked at the floor where the headless man was found, and knelt closer to it. No trace of blood. Not even dried, but the scent of death was strong and near. She gets down to eye level, and looks at the direction the iron scent gave her, directly to the shed by the water.

Lips tight and first clutched my her side, she made her way towards the shed where Scott was the one responsible for breaking the window the night of the party. The tension in the stomach grew and before the strange tension it made it up to her throat, she saw the repair guy’s opened stomach hanging from a wooden panel on the shed. Her name was carved into the guy’s bare chest. His head was covered by a plastic bag.

And with that, the Banshee let out the cry called upon the dead she came across. She picked up her phone and called the one person she always knew to call when things like this occurred. Stiles.

 

\---

 

“Lydia? Lydia?” His voice echoed in the silent, yet still, atmosphere.

Her body was shaking with fear. She was next. Whoever left this message knew that she would find it. Knew that she would come. They knew how to play with the Banshee.

“Lydia.” His breath cuts through her from behind. He was so close.

She turns to see his worried expression, something she missed. The look of a boy who cared and adored her. A look Lydia never understood till then.

She rushes into his arms. Embracing him, keeping him close, finding a distant closure. Soaking his shirt, she kept her head on the crook of his neck. Hooking her hands around his neck and shoulders. His hands on her back, gliding down the curve of it.

All of this. This. This is what she needed. What she never took for granted.

“Stiles." Lydia says between a sob, clenching tighter onto his shirt. "They are here. I'm next. I can feel it."

"Lydia. Lydia, it's okay. I-I’m here," He keeps massaging her back, she continues to cry.

This is what she needed. Someone to hold her, to keep her warm and cared for. Stiles and her. The epic duo who solved the mystery whenever there was trouble. The Stiles she once thought she lost because of the evil spirit that consumed his body. The Stiles that believed in her and the banshee within.

"Hey, um... Lydia?" He grabs onto her forearms. She kept tightening her grip. He struggles for air and she was unaware of.

"What?" She responds with a mumble, not removing herself.

"You. are. kinda. Squeezing me here."

She laughs. Actually laughs, "oh," she steps away, hiding her reddening face from him. She probably looked like a mess but it wasn't like he hadn't seen her cry already.

"Sorry" she turns to hide her flushed face when she realises there wasn't a body hanging. There wasn't any blood or her name carved into anyone's chest. It was all gone. An illusion in her mind. "What?" her voice cracks. She begins looking around. "What. No, no, no. It was here. The blood. The man."

She turns to a concerned Stiles. His left sleeved soaked.

Lydia grabs onto her head "I'm going crazy. This is insane. I'm insane." She begins pacing, still pressing on her temples. Mumbling words. Repeating her insanity.

Stiles steps towards her, "Lydia-" but she freezes and looks at him. Her glare wide and deadly.

"-You. You don't get to come near me," She points at his chest. "No. Just, stay where you are. Let me think."

Body. No body. Voices. No Voices. Stiles. No Stiles. He had to be real. He had to be there. She would yank her hair off if he was just part of her imagination as well.

She stares at him from head to toe. His posture slightly tense and afraid to move. His eyes still furrowed and concerned. She never paid attention to the way his broad shoulders and slender figure could fit so perfectly to keep her petite apple shaped little body safe.

"You have to be real." she mumbles so quickly that the next thing she found herself doing was meeting her lips with his.

He was taken aback, but after a second of hesitation he returned the kiss as well, bringing her body closer to his. Inhaling her in. And Lydia, oh Lydia liked the way his large hand made it's way to her lower back, the way his soft moans made her want to respond back with her own. 

 

This was her. Her body screaming “Stiles, Stiles,Stiles!” And oh how she missed him. He knew how to handle her. He knew how to keep her from going crazy. Distract her. She then realises why the last time she kissed him was another of her unthought for actions. Lydia needed Stiles in her life. She was nothing without him.

Then she remembers. Malia.

That look he used to give Lydia, full of worry and care and love. A friend. A laugh. A smile. She pulls away, and slaps him though she was the one who began the kiss and was well aware of it.

"Ow, Lydia, What the hell-" He reached for his reden cheek. Clearly he was beyond confused by Lydia’s actions and she couldn’t care more if it meant keeping her sanity intact. 

"Leave." She turns away towards where the repair man's bloody body used to be. She didn't know what was happening, but something was telling her to pay close attention to the little things that may look like something else.

"Ly-"

"Stiles." She closes her eyes and clenches he's her fists, "Leave."

Her heart was still beating fast from the adrenaline from the kiss. It was too fast and too confusing. At least he was real. 

A few seconds later she hears him sigh and make his way out. She falls into the ground and stares up to the wooden panel.

An image that's there but it's not.

The laughter was there but it was not.

Her computer screen was blank but it was not.

The man was there, but was not.

She might be insane but might not.

\--- 

 

When she arrived to Kira's she was greeted to a welcoming Ms. Yukimura saying that her daughter had gone out with Scott on a date. It was Friday night afterall, but she became annoyed by the thought that they’re both ignoring the fact that they are being hunted down along with many others and decided it was best to play like lovebirds.

Lydia excuses herself and goes home. At least in her bedroom she could sit and think of other things besides blood and her name carved into a strangers chest.

After a long hot shower, she looks at her tired self on the half fogged mirror in her bathroom. She had purple-greenish bags under her eyes. Her pores were clogged. She could see her strawberry blonde hair missing it's shine. She didn't look healthy and strong. She didn't look like The Lydia Martin.

Opening the door a rush of cold air from the open window in her room, which she had left shut, came in. She tugged onto her towel closer, stepping out.

“I like the smell of strawberry shampoo," A voice from her closet came, and so did a Malia holding a navy blue blouse in front of her. She looked herself in the mirror with it. "Stiles likes it too, y'know? Can't get enough."

"Malia. What are you doing here?" Lydia tilts her head, the familiar sass to her tone. She didn't like Malia's talk dark presence in her room. Her figure reminding her a lot of what Allison used to do.

"Oh you know," She turns, throwing the blouse onto the bed before turning to get another blouse, this time white. "I wanted to be a friend. Hang with my girl, Lydia."

Lydia looks out towards her window, she could see claw marks on the wood paneling, which brings her attention to Malia's hands. Her dark awful claws were out. It made her feel uneasy when Malia described herself as a friend.

"Sweetheart, normal people don't come in through windows. They knock on doors and let people know they are coming over."

Malia shrugs, throws the blouse and digs through the closet again.

"Oh I know. I'm just so used to coming in thru Stiles' window, that it has became a habit." She turns around with a Macy's dress bag. A bag she had shoved way behind all the other clothing to be avoided for a very specific reason.

"What are you doing with that?" Lydia takes a step, reaching out with one free hand. "Put it back or give it to me."

"It seems to me that this lovely dress" Malia rips open through the bag with her claw "has quite the story to tell. Doesn't it?" Malia lifts a brow. A smile plastered on her face. She was enjoying this was too much and all Lydia could do was contain herself. For both of their sakes.

Lydia couldn't believe it. Malia takes both of her arms and lifts the light pink dress she wore to homecoming when Peter attacked her long ago. When she thought Jackson saved her.

"What? Lydia Martin has lost her words?" Malia places the blood stained dress to her waist, looking at herself in the mirror. "It's such a beautiful dress. Whoever you were screwing at the time must of really had a hard time keeping their hands to themselves." She turns to meet a teary eyed and angered Lydia, "What was his name? Was it Aiden? I heard about him. Or was it someone I never met? Stiles told me of the past wolves in town. What was his name... Jason? Jasper? "

"Jackson." Lydia cuts her off, a tear rolling down her cheek without her permission. Her teeth clenched. "His name was Jackson."

Malia was bad news. She could sense the uncomfort between the two. The way they could never be compatible. Not even as distant friends.

"Oh yeah. Jackson." She said in a matter of factly way. "Man, yeah, he left you too, huh? Alone. You had Allison to keep you comfort, though. That is until Aiden came around didn't y-"

"Don't you mention Allison's name." Lydia shivers. She could feel heat rising to her head. She was ready to ruin things officially between the two. Though she could care less about defending her.

Malia raises her eyebrows and throws the dress on the bed, dusting her hands. 

"Okay. Okay. I won't." She raises her hands in the air, playing the victim. Then her tall figure takes a few steps toward Lydia, circling her. The predator and the prey.

" Tell me." Malia's voice was curious, tight. "Where was Stiles that night?"

"What night?" Lydia follows her movements with her eyes.

"Homecoming, silly." Malia throws a fake laugh. "he couldn't have been with you could he? I mean you were with…Jackson."

No. I wasn't. Lydia thought. She clearly was heart broken by the fool. The fool she let herself love.

"He was" Lydia whispers.

"Who was?" Malia stops in front of her. Face inches from Lydia's.

"Stiles"

Malia throw a laugh in the air, consuming the room. "Kind, isn't he? I swear he had a thing for you back then. didn't he? Scott told me. Well, he mentioned it. But either way. Stiles was your personal pet. Right? You were always too nice to tell him to flee and get a life. "

Lydia stare coldly at Malia "What do you want Malia?"

Malia looks at her nails, "Me? well this is what I want. I want you to back off.” She begins shoving Lydia back with one hand. “ You had your chance and you let it go to get yourself winded up with big low life's,” Shoves again, “that only used you,” again, “to get you to bed with them." then in a hushed tone, she leans in to eye level with lydia when all she could feel was the cold wall behind her, "Leave Stiles alone, Slut."

Lydia couldn’t let her get to her. She was tougher than this. She was Lydia Martin, the girl who didn’t let anyone hurt her feelings. But it was true. She did have the chance but it was long before she understood Stiles’ care for her. She never realised how important he was until now.

Lydia looked at Malia’s strong face. Her arms crossed, jaw tight. Nothing to worry about. She had won.

“ Do you like him?” Lydia asked.

Malia looks around and cracks a small obvious laugh, “Uh, yeah.”

Lydia looks down. Dumb question, Lydia didn’t make dumb questions. But her instinct, the Banshee within, told her that there was more. There had to be more. There had to be a reason why Malia had gotten Stiles so distant from Lydia.

“Lydia? Tell me,” Malia walked over the window. A new moon at its first stages. “Why now? Why not then when you had the chance.”

Lydia looks up to the far mirror near her closet. She looked small, wet, and cold. Not to mention defeated. She was losing just like she had lost herself and her friends.

Why? That was a good question. She wanted to yell and punch her and tell her to get out because there was a million answers why. Answers that didn’t correspond to her.

“You should know, Malia.” Lydia says. Seeming to surprise her with her tone. This gave her a boost of energy, confidence. Something the old Lydia would do, so she began making her way towards Malia. “Stiles is so kind isn’t he? Always willing to help those in need. Caring and taking his time solving a problem.” She stares her down. Lydia made a mistake comparing her tall frame to Allison’s. Malia’s posture wasn’t right. Nothing was right.

Malia didn’t remove her angered gaze. She was being challenged and threatened.

“I mean, he has taken his sweet time on your charity work.” Lydia snaps. Words strong and defined. She knew Malia understood. There was no need to break down the words and give back up notes.

Malia flashes her blue eyes, growling. “I would be careful if I were you.” She says, though Lydia doesn’t move. Willing to take a claw to prove she still has the inner strength she thought she had lost.

“Oh, but I am. Now, be a…” Lydia trails off, dancing her eyes on Malia’s body, “... Human and take the front door and get the hell out of my home.”

Malia laughs, but it wasn’t strong. There was something hidden beneath it. Worry? Defeat? Could lydia be right? Did Malia know how much Stiles liked Lydia before she came around? Of odds of him running back to Lydia were pretty high?

“Yeah, yeah” Malia takes a foot out but before jumping out, she looks at Lydia from head to toe, shaking her head. “Goodnight Lydia”.

Lydia didn’t watch her leave, she kept her eyes on the blood stained dress on her bed. Memories flashing back. Malia was right on one thing though, Lydia was too late. She didn’t pick the good guys who would care, but not because she liked to sleep around and get hurt. It was because Lydia Martin was afraid to love again. To love someone who would love her more to the point where she’d be lost without them.

To the point where Lydia Martin was no longer for Beacon Hills, but for someone like Stiles Stilinski. A point where she would open her self to someone other than herself, and that was scary. No one was allowed to get to Lydia.

Lydia Martin was afraid to be loved more than what she is willing to give.

 

\---

 

She wasn’t much of a runner. Or walker. Lydia owned one pair of running shoes, and parking her car a few miles from the lake house was enough for her to get distracted. With Kira of course.

“You ready?” Kira stretched her arm above her head. A simple sweet smile plastered on her face. Maybe it had to do with Scott, but Lydia reminded herself that other people’s love lives really made her bored.

“Yeah…” Lydia closes her door, dreading how she looked in those awful gray spandex. But here goes nothing.

Lydia looks over to Kira who had her hands on her phone, “Kira.” She demands, and Kira looks up, confused. “The phone. Put it away.”

Kira’s eye widen, “Yeah. It’s Scott. I’m letting him know where we are. He is pretty amazed that we are out here-”

“-Okay.” Lydia cuts her off. Maybe she should have came alone.

“Oh. It’s just why not run on that trail we do for coach?” Kira asks after strapping her phone on her arm. “But anyways, ready?”

Lydia rolls her eyes. “You already said that.”

“Yeah. Right.” Kira laughs nervously.

While running along the road, part of Lydia wondered if bringing Kira was such a good idea, and the other part wondered why she chose to run near the lake house. She didn’t remember choosing this place for any apparent reason. She was drawn here. Again.

The farther they got from her car, the closer a distant laughter came into her ears. The familiar laugh of school. This was not good, and Lydia found herself freezing in place. She wasn’t breathing.

The hunt. It began.

Kira stop after a few strides when she realised Lydia had stopped, and came back to Lydia, asking her what was wrong.

“Everything,” Lydia said without thinking. “Everything is wrong. I lost.”

Before Kira could ask anymore, the laughter ceased, and a fast movement in the woods flashed before her eyes until it all went black.

 

\---

 

The ache in her head was enough to answer her questions. She touches her temples just enough to realise that her hands were chained to the wall. Dried and fresh blood came off. There was a cut on her head, and it wasn’t healing.

The place was dark, but the familiar scent of Coyote allowed her to realize that this was the basement of her home. 

“Kira?” Lydia whispers.

Searching for answers in her head, she looked around and realised that it had gone dark outside. Kira was on the other wall, chained up just like her, but she looked in worse shape. Her whole face had blood that ran down.

This was her fault. Lydia blamed herself for harming her friend. They only person who has been somewhat close.

She looks around for any object big enough to be used as a weapon. There was only loose gravel from the scratched walls and a loose chain about the length of her arm. She takes that in one hand. Anything that could help her would do her good.

The night wouldn’t seem to end and she felt her head light though she didn’t want to close her eyes in fear of whoever chained them up would come back and harm them more. It seemed hours before she heard any sound from above. Footsteps that seem to belong to four or five people. 

“I’m telling you. They have to be here. The car is still parked down there.” Scotts voice barely made it to Lydia’s ears.

Lydia begins to move, shaking, until a pain in her ribs hits her hard. She looks down, and sees her spandex shirt soaked in a dark red. A wound in the middle. Panic began to rise. She had to get out.

“I know. But something doesn’t seem right,” Stiles voice says.

“I can smell them, and blood.” Malia says, she was taking slow steps. “Wait, theres something more…”

Lydia looks up, following Malia’s steps. Something wasn’t right. Whoever tied Lydia and Kira up, wanted them to be found. It was a trap. The deadpool. It was a perfect opportunity to take them all down.

It was then when she noticed the linked metal wire that connected them together. If Kira shot any sort of strong energy, Lydia would be the one electrified. And that wasn’t only it. The ceiling had a wet stain that led to the door and back. It was an intense smell. Diesel. 

Lydia gets a piece of gravel and throws it at Kira. Missing the first attempt. She bites her lip, the pain on her rib was enough to let her shed a tear. She throws another one, this time hitting Kira on her cheek. Kira shakes a bit, barely opening her eyes.

“Kira. Kira wake up!” Lydia threw another one.

The voices and steps continued. The Banshee told her that it was near. She could feel the danger. She could smell death.

“Kira!” Lydia threw another one. This time with enough force to fully wake her. Her eyes were glowing orange. Electric energy surrounding her. “ Oh my god, Kira! You need to calm down.”

A pounding on the door took Lydias attention away from Kira, and panic rose. What if it wasn’t them? What if it was the imagination again?

Scott comes in with a full force, sending the door down the stairs, Stiles shoves him back, jumping on the railing and stumbling down the last flight of stairs. A bat in hand.

Scott ran down to Kira, yelling and telling her to not move. To concentrate. She could hear the strain in his voice. A strain of disbelief. Seeing the person he cared about soaked in blood and unable to control their strength. Lydia wanted to turn and look at the scene happening to her left, but she couldn't. Stiles. Worried and scared look, Stiles was there. A few feet away.

“It’s a trap. You guys need to get out!” She spoke fast. “Leave before they get you. This is what they want.”

It pained her to say those words with such a strong voice but it was true. They were going to die if they didn’t get out. Kira can trigger enough energy to electrify Lydia and start a fire in the house.

“No Lydia. We are not leaving you guys behind.” He kneels down to her eye level, trying to release her from the chains.

Lydia could feel her wet eyes, and the ache in her throat. It was close. The Banshee was telling her to scream. Telling her to warn the others but she stared and looked.

It hurt. Looking at him, hurt.

This was Stiles. Her Stiles.

She opened her mouth when it was clear that the chains weren't opening. Kira was screaming. There was fast movements upstairs. Malia was frozen looking at the scene behind them.

“Liam?!” Samantha, one of the freshmen that came to Lydia’s party, said. Her voice in disbelief, then a short laugh right after.

The laugh. The laugh from school. A laughter that was there but was not. The freshmen. One look at them and she wouldn’t have thought assassin. No, not at all. Just some girl trying to act seventeen.

“Stiles-” She breaths trying to warn him about the girl, but he interrupts her by touching her cheek. “-Look what they’ve done to you Lydia. Its okay. I’m going to get you out.”

A object breaks, and all Lydia could do is close her eyes. Her home. The home was going to be completely ruined. And Lydia was here staring at the boy who was inches away, trying to save her. Showings signs of worry once again.

“Liam!” Scott yells, dealing in his hands on a Kira who was about to burst. Scott yelled at Malia to go help Liam, but she didn’t move.

Stiles looks back, “Malia, Just go!” Stiles’ hands shakes. His frustration and anger on the verge. Lydia could see the veins on his neck bursting.

Malia’s claw came out and her eye turned that shade of blue she despised. She looked once at Stiles and growled before moving up the stairs. Soon enough there was the smell of burn. A hot wave of heat starting.

Loud noise beginning.

“Scott!” Stiles turns, cuping both of Lydia’s hands. “I need you to use that Alpha strength of yours to yank these chains off the walls!” Scott yells something that Lydia didn’t quite paid attention to. She was too focused on Stiles’ facial expression. Anxiety.

And Lydia. Well Lydia’s mind was racing back and forth between resting her tired eyes or making these her last moments with Stiles memorable because Kira was no where getting better and Lydia could feel electric shocks pulsing through the wire. 

“Stiles-”

“-No. No. We are taking you out,” He licks his lips. Eyes watery.

“Stiles.” She lifts a bloody hand to show him her wound on her ribs.

For a second, the look on Stiles’ face told Lydia that he was going to go insane. His life right before his eyes. His mouth slightly opens. A tear glides down the features of his face.

“Lydia!” His voice yells, though it wouldn’t change a thing. She could already hear the house coming down to pieces. “Shit Lydia. No, no. Listen to me. Listen to my voice. Please. Lydia.” He comes closer to her, holding her tight.

“Scott!” Stiles screams, though Lydia wasn’t looking. Her eyes to tired to open. She could feel the fast beat of Stiles’ heart as her head laid on his chest. He was holding tight. Keeping her close. “Scott. Please.” There was a pause, his voice crying for help. “Lydia,” he begins whispering. “Listen to my voice. You’ll be alright. I’m going to save you. Please...” He kisses her cheek, “Don’t leave me”.

Open. Close. Open. Close.

Everything is daze and noise. She could see slight images, ones that fade and others of her seeing an orange glow illuminating the sky.

 

\---

 

The chlorine stench was the first thing she became aware of when she woke in the unfamiliar dim room. The monitor of her heart rate was second. And third was the slight snores of her mother sleeping on the chair near the hospital bed.

She tried to move, though not much progress occurred when the harsh pain of her left rib cage reminded her of the past events. Of the fire. Of the Laugh. Of the freshman. Of the computer screen. Of the man with her name carved in. Of Stiles.

Lydia calls out for her mother. Her voice sore at first. She needed a drink of water to settle the drought like feeling on her tongue.

At first her mother is taken aback. Lydia wondered if how awful she must look to her. How many cuts had she gotten, how the bruising was going.

“Honey…” Her mother begins and immediately stands up. “I’ll go get the doctor.”

“Wait.” Lydia protests, her head in an ache. “How many days has it been?”

Ms. Martin walks over to lydia and brushes her hair with her fingers. “Three. Don’t worry. There was only two major cuts that fortunately didn’t get any major organs. Some scratches and bruising. I tell your friends that you are fine, but they insist on staying the night.” Ms. Martin shakes her head and begins walking towards the door.

“Friends?” Lydia questions.

“Well mainly Stiles and Scott stay the night. Ms. Tate though, tends to leaves pretty annoyed when Stiles decides to stay. Kira is next door and-.”

Ms. Martin kept talking, and all Lydia could do is stare out. Stiles had stayed. It shouldn’t have surprised her because he stayed the time when she got attacked by Petter. But that was then, and this was now.

That was when Lydia was too overly obsessed with the boy who never took her for granted. A boy who didn’t love her like she deserved to be loved. And now, this was the lydia who needed Stiles. Who wouldn’t just shrug the thought that he was outside, but demand for him to enter the room. This was the Lydia that loved the thought of him showing that he still cared.

Ms. Martin walks out.

 

\---

 

Lydia stayed hospitalized three more days. Something about her brain being swollen and how she needed to be closely looked at before she was given the okay to be taken home. She wasn’t allowed to see Stiles or anyone else because he wasn’t family. Ms. Martin had said he even attempted to lie that he was her cousin, but everyone in Beacon Hills knew the sheriff's son.

Lydia had taken a long and slow paced shower. The swelling on her cut temple was still green on the sides and she had minor scratches on her chin and right side of her face. She must of fallen on that side when she and Kira were attacked.

She got ten stitches on her temple and fifteen on her ribs. Battle scars she is definitely going to remember.

She had a gotten a walker to help her get around the house while her ribs healed. and pain medication to rest a couple more days before she headed back to school and the thought of dealing with the assassins and the deadpool and whatever came with other supernatural creatures.

While sitting down on her bed, a slight knock came from her door. She expected her mother with gelatin, but it was Stiles instead.

The breath of air she took gave her pain, reminding her that she still had to heal.

“Hey,” She smiles slightly.

“Hey,” she smiles back, holding plate full of strawberry gelatin she didn’t really like. He closes the door, “Your mother asked me to bring you this.”

Lydia nods, “Yeah recently i’ve been receiving a lot of things from her,” she jokes.

Stiles awkwardly sets the plate aside. Fumbling with his hands. He looked a bit tired, his eyes deep in their sockets.

“H-how…” “Are you…” they both said at the same time. He scratches his head, she looks down. Then they laugh.

Stiles insisted on Lydia talking first, so she did. “ Are you… sure you should be here?” She asked while in reality she wanted to say something along the lines of “Are you still in love with me.” But it was close enough.

Stiles sets his hands on his pockets and looks towards the purple bed, asking if it was alright to sit, though he doesn’t look at her.

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

Lydia looks at the walker, thinking of a perfect response. But there was none. “Because…” Lydia begins, “Your girlfriend.”

Stiles shakes his head a bit, finally looking up. Searching her face for something. “Y’know. You scared the shit out of me when I saw you cover in blood and chained up like that. I…” He lifts his right hand, which was closest to her, and points at her face in a circular motion, “I like this. It makes you look badass Ms. Lydia Martin.”

Lydia rolls her eyes and as much as she didn’t want to smile, she did. But Stiles dropped his hand after he laughed a bit, “But yeah. No. Me and Malia. I think we are together. I mean we act like it. She can’t stop me from coming to see you, can she?”

Lydia looks away. After the scene with Malia in her bedroom, Lydia was pretty sure she didn’t like the fact that Stiles was here.

“Lydia, why didn’t you tell me about the things you were hearing?” he says, both of them looking at that ugly silver walker with Lydias medical tag still in place.

“ I did.” She says in a low voice. “You just don’t pay attention anymore.” 

He stayed silent for a few second. “You’re right. Sorry, I was caught up.” He shrugs and thats when Lydia couldn’t take it anymore. Him realising that without notice he was moving on.

“Caught up?” Lydia’s voice began to rise. “Stiles! I’m all alone here. My best friend and boyfriend died! Everyone around me is leaving. Caught up?” She shakes her head, “Stiles! No, you guys are the ones who are okay here. You, Scott, Malia, and Kira. You guys are fine. You guys have your own things and problems to deal with, I get that. But thats the thing, you have someone to help you get through those problems, Stiles.” She could feel her throat aching. Tears wanting to release. “I have no one, and I used to have everyone. Including you.”

Stiles stood from the bed. She expected him to leave. But instead he knelt down and put his palms on her knees.

“Lydia, i’m still here. I haven’t left you.”

Lydia meets his eyes, a tear runs down and lands on his hand. He doesn’t remove his dark warm gaze. She brushes her tears away, hoping to believe him. Hoping that she could accept it all.

“Well it sure does feel like it.” She tilts her head.

“Why?” Stiles’ brows come together.

Lydia laughs sarcastically, “God! Can you be anymore clueless? Because, Stiles. Because!” She shoves his hands away and lowers her voice, “Because I’m in love with you. And I know it has taken me a while for me to realise it, but I can’t be around you when you’re with Malia. I- I just can’t.” She looks up, an expression of disbelief and wonder and thrill all at once. His brown eyes shining with forming tears. “Stiles’ it hurts. Okay? It hurts to see you actually happy for once. And I hate it so much that I can’t let you be happy. Not with her. Not now when you are finally moving on.”

He licks his lips and bits them, placing his fist over his mouth.

Lydia’s chest was beating too fast that she knew it was going to affect her breathing, her stitches. She was expecting him to jump towards her or do something that showed a positive sign, but he stayed knelt down. Frozen.

If Lydia could stand, she would have. She would have taken his face between her hands and forced him to say something. To breath. But she sat on the edge of her bed, hugging her ribcage.

“Was is worth it?” She breaks the silence, but Stiles was still not moving. “Please, tell me if it was worth saving me? Say anything. Say something.”

Still. Stiles was still.

“Stiles. Why did you save me? Why didn’t you leave me? You could have avoided all this right now!” She threw a first to the mattress.

He didn’t move. Not even blink.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for messing things up. You probably don’t care anymore anyways. I’m just confusing things. Thats what the Banshee does. Confuse things. Yeah, that’s it.”

Lydia didn’t want to look at him anymore. She wanted to close her eyes and forget that the last few minutes. Stiles wasn’t reacting. Her insides hurt. All she knew how to do was cry recently. And for all she knew, the lake house was burned down because of her.

So, Lydia begins to turn her head away, only to be caught by his fingertips. She closes her eyes, not letting her head turn back to face his.

“Please, Lydia.” He whispers, and those were the words that consumed all the pain away. The words that came from a voice that needed her. Wanted her. The voice that belonged to the Stiles she knew.

Right there and then he lets herself open her eyes, and turn. A slight crooked smile was on his face that masked the way his dark eyes screamed with joy. His eyes studied her own, and his eyes jumped between her lips and green gaze. He was going to kiss her and Lydia was going to let him before the feeling in her gut stopped her.

“I can’t. “ She places a hand on his chest. “Malia.”

Stiles sighs and sits back. “ Malia is a great girl, but she isn’t you. She will never be you. And i’m willing to fix things if you let me.” He swallows.

Lydia thinks about Malia and how close she was to her when she came into her room. It was going to be tough, Lydia knew. A tough fight for her to understand why Lydia never let anyone love her the way she deserved.

Lydia takes Stiles’ hand again and brings him close. “Help me stand, you fool.”

Stiles immediately jumps up and helps Lydia by her forearms. He was taking her to the walker when she nods. “This,” she whispers, taking his chin in her hands. “Is the only stability I need.”

With those words, she could feel his fast paced heart beat on his chest with the hand that remained on his chest. She let him kiss her. A kiss so soft. A type of kiss that didn’t yell hunger, passion, and sex. It was a kiss that yelled, I love you, I need you, and I want you.

Pulling away Stiles shakes his head followed by a small hidden chuckle in his throat.

“What?” Lydia questions.

“Even though I went through hell trying to save your sweet little ass, I really do like the look.” He says, pointing at her face again, balancing her with his other hand.

Lydia shakes her head. “Oh god, remind me again why I love you?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> VOTE FOR DYLAN FOR BEST VILLAN ON TCA


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